Sabrina listened, asked questions, offered suggestions. It was easy. Familiar. Almost enough to make me forget about Derek and his messages and the way he’d looked at me this morning—tired and hopeful and still so unbearably kind.
Almost.
“Okay.” Sabrina set down her empty glass and fixed me with a look. “I’ve let you stall long enough. Who is he?”
“Who is who?”
“The reason you look like you haven’t slept in a week. The reason you’re drinking vodka Red Bulls like you’re trying to forget something. The reason you keep checking your phone every five minutes even though you’re pretending you’re not.”
I opened my mouth to deny it.
“Don’t even try,” she said. “Spill.”
At that moment, my phone—lying facedown on the table—buzzed. I fought the urge to check it but Sabrina was faster. She snatched it up and held it to my face to unlock it without an ounce of hesitation.
“It’s Avery. He wants to know if we can meet up for drinks since he’ll be gone most of the time I’m here.”
I grabbed the phone out of her hand before she could start scrolling through my threads. I texted Avery that we were at the Twisted Cactus and he replied:We’ll be there soon.
We.
I didn’t know who that included. The uncertainty filled me with equal parts dread and anticipation.
I still hadn’t told Sabrina about staying at Derek’s place. Might as well get it over with.
“So, Avery’s teammate—his dogsitter had a family emergency. I’ve been watching his dog while they’re away and Avery’s place doesn’t allow pets. Would you be cool with staying at his place while you’re here? He said it was fine if you came.”
She shook her head slowly, disbelief creeping across her features. “Your brother’s teammate?”
“He’s a friend.”
“Right.” She drew the word out. “I once asked you to watch Princess Peach for a few days and you refused.”
“She is literally the spawn of Satan. She pisses in my shoes every time I visit.”
“She’s asserting dominance. You should be honoured.” Sabrina waved a dismissive hand. “Stop trying to distract me. How friendly are we talking? What’s his name?”
“Derek. He’s a… nice guy.”
“What a ringing endorsement.”
“I like talking to him.”
She raised a perfectly arched brow. “Is that all you’re doing with him?”
“God, Sabrina.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said primly, taking a satisfied sip of the dregs of her spritz.
“It’s not a big deal.” I traced a finger around the rim of my glass. “I don’t even know if he’s gay. Or bi. Or whatever. He used to be engaged to a woman.”
Her eyes went wide. “Holy shit, you broke up his engagement?”
“No, of course not! This was a year ago. She cheated on him with his best friend. And then he tripped over his dog running away from them, tore his ACL, and got concussed. Made him miss most of last season.”
